"Ok here's how we are doing this," Julius said, settling into the chair across from me with the enthusiasm of a man who'd found his calling. "Thankfully you have all the facilities here, so we'll have plenty of theoretical language work. We'll also be learning several dead languages of the Dream Realm. We have to prepare you well for your first nightmare after all, you're close to the age where you start getting affected."
He opened his bag and began pulling out what looked like an entire library's worth of books, slamming them onto my desk with thuds that made me wince. The titles were all in languages I couldn't read, but the Spell thankfully translated them for me.
"I already had my first nightmare," I said, watching his eyebrows do that weird jumping thing again.
"Of course, of course you already had your first-" He stopped mid-sentence, his hands freezing over the books. "Wait, you did?"
I nodded.
"Wait, how old are you?"
"Fourteen, though I'll be fifteen in a month."
His eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Oh, you're a very rare case indeed! May I ask what your nightmare was like? You see, I'm quite the fan of anything Spell-related. First of all, we have to figure out what time period you were in, what kind of nightmare it was-"
"Teacher Julius."
"Yes, Sinbad?"
"I'd prefer not to."
His face fell like a child who'd been told a party was cancelled. "Oh, that's disappointing. You don't know how helpful first nightmare experiences are to the research of the Spell. The correlation between nightmare themes and aspect manifestation is still largely theoretical, and-"
"I'd still prefer not to."
"Fine, fine." He sighed dramatically, pushing his glasses up his nose. "But if you ever change your mind..."
The next few hours blurred together in a haze of conjugations, survival techniques, and historical timelines. Julius was... intense. Thankfully, the Spell translated everything to Parthevian, or I would have been completely lost.
When Julius finally packed up his books, Rashid appeared as if by magic to escort him out and bring in my next instructor - himself.
"Young scion," Rashid said with his usual bow, "Master Knossos has asked me to handle your English, etiquette, and history lessons."
I groaned internally. More studying.
The lessons were average I'd say, I never really was much for studying, and the Spell did help translating everything so it wasn't that bad, I guess.
"The 'th' sound, young scion. Your tongue should touch your teeth lightly."
"Thuh... thah... this?"
"Better. Again."
History however was a chore to get through. The Waking World had a completely different timeline from my nightmare. No Parthevia, no Reim Empire. Instead, there were continents, divided in Quadrants, it seemed like there were other continents but they were inhabited. Europe because of nuclear radiation, whatever that was, and America that had fallen to nightmare creatures because of the only ever level 5 gate..
Like this, the month passed in a blur of conditioning, studying, and slowly getting used to this new world, well as used to as you could get while never leaving your home, master also had to leave sparingly for some reason or other but he was never gone for more than a day or two.
Physical conditioning in the morning became a routine I actually started to enjoy. My body was getting stronger, faster, it had mostly return to a healthy state.
Classes in the evening and through the night filled my head with so much information I sometimes felt like it might explode. Julius visited three times a week, while Rashid taught me daily.
My English was improving quickly because of it to the point where I could hold basic conversations without the Spell's help. The history lessons expanded to cover the politics of the Waking World and the Dream Realm - who the major players were, what legacy clans were and how the House of Night itself worked.
"The House of Night is one of the three Great legacy clans along with Valor and Song," Rashid explained during one late-night session. "We work differently than them while they have a patriarch or matriarch that act as king we the House of Night were formed because Nightwalker decided we would have strength in numbers and so many lesser clans that had connection to the clan joined, sadly we lost Nightwalker, however before that he passed his lineage to all the clans in the House of Night, though very few ever awaken it. For example master Knossos himself was part of Nightwalker's party."
"Our aspects tend toward darkness, storm, guidance, water basically anything related to the Storm God. This is also why we have one of the more important roles in the waking world, protecting and guiding ships that travel form one continent to the other."
The etiquette lessons gradually made more sense as I understood the context. It was more about a putting up a front than anything else. I was getting used to this but it was getting quite stale.
That was until finally, something changed.
I woke up before dawn as usual, the habit so ingrained now that I didn't even need to think about it. I made my way to the courtyard, barefoot as always - master insisted shoes made you complacent about your footing.
But when master arrived, he wasn't alone. Instead, he carried two wooden swords. One was a longsword, similar to how I'd described Baal's Blade to him. The other looked like some kind of hybrid between a hook and a fishing rod - weird, but somehow familiar, I mean I had been a fisherman.
He threw the longsword at my feet with a clatter.
"From today forward, we're starting your real training," he said, his tone more serious than I'd heard in weeks. "You said you had a sword memory, so we'll train you there first and foremost. Pick it up."
I bent down slowly, my fingers wrapping around the wooden hilt. The moment I touched it, something electric shot through me - not literal electricity, but one of warning.
The hairs on my neck stood up and I raised the sword, but it was too late.
BAM.
I went sprawling across the grass, my ears ringing from the impact. Master stood over me, his own wooden sword already back in a neutral position.
"It seems you have good instincts," he said calmly, "but never take your eyes off your opponent. Never. Not even if you know them."
"Cheap shot," I muttered, spitting out grass.
"Did you say something?"
That shut me up real quick. I pushed myself back to my feet and raised my sword in front of me, holding it with one hand the way I'd seen in my memories of the nightmare. I'd always thought I was a pretty decent fighter, but I'd never had actual sword training - just desperate battles against thieves, and of course in the tower against dragons.
In a flash, Knossos was in front of me, his sword already striking. He was fast - not ascended-level fast, maybe not even awakened-level fast. He was holding back, but even restrained, he was overwhelming.
I raised my sword to block.
BAM.
The force sent vibrations through my arms that made my teeth rattle. Even when holding back, his strength was crushing.
Just read the waves, Sinbad.
Master smiled slightly, pulling his sword back before striking again. I raised mine to block, but he didn't commit to the strike - instead, he slid past the length of my blade and struck at my hand. I'd seen it coming and managed to get away, but barely.
He lunged again. This time I didn't try to block - I redirected the blow downward, using his momentum against him. I spun my sword up and over, aiming for his head, but-
BAM.
"Good move, but you exposed your torso too much."
Yeah, I could tell. My chest was on fire, and it was definitely going to leave a mark. I stood up again, looking at the eerily calm old man who'd just schooled me without even breathing hard.
This time, I lunged first.
My blade cut through the air in a diagonal slash, but Knossos simply sidestepped. His wooden sword came up to slam me hard on the shoulder as I passed by him, nearly making me drop my weapon.
"You're bad at this," he said matter-of-factly. "Do you even think ahead?"
I spun around, bringing my sword up defensively. This time I waited, trying to read his movements like I used to read ocean waves. His weight shifted slightly to his left foot, his grip tightened almost imperceptibly on his sword's hilt.
There.
I moved to intercept what I thought would be a strike to my right side, but the blow never came. Instead, his sword struck my left knee, sending me stumbling.
"Now you're thinking too much," Knossos observed. "Just watch my waist and hands. Everything else is a distraction."
I gritted my teeth and attacked again with a series of quick strikes - high, low, middle, trying to overwhelm him with speed. The physical conditioning had paid off; I was faster than I'd ever been. But it was like trying to hit smoke. Each of my attacks met nothing but air, while his counters found their mark with surgical precision.
BAM - a strike to my ribs.
BAM - another to my shoulder.
BAM - his pommel connected with my wrist, nearly making me drop my sword.
I rolled backward to create distance, my chest heaving. Despite the cool morning air, sweat was already beading on my forehead. My body felt heavier than it should have.
"Don't stop," Knossos commanded, not even breathing hard.
I circled him this time, trying to be more patient. But even that strategy was dismantled quickly and efficiently. As I circled, he suddenly dashed forward.
"I said don't stop."
I slashed forward almost out of pure instinct.
He parried effortlessly, the wooden blades making a sharp crack as they connected. The force of his parry sent my sword wide, and before I could recover, his blade was pressing against my throat.
"Dead," he said simply.
I stepped back, wiping sweat from my eyes. "I know, I know."
"It seems I expected too much of you," he said, his tone almost disappointed. "Swing your sword downward one thousand times before dinner."
I grumbled but did as I was told. Holding my sword in both hands, I began to slash downward, but-
"Stop," he said in a light tone. He moved behind me, his hands adjusting my posture - straightening my back, repositioning my feet, correcting my grip. "Again."
I swung the blade down. A small smile formed on his lips, but it disappeared quickly after I swung a few more times. "Keep your form consistent."
I nodded, focusing solely on maintaining perfect form as I swung. How straight my back should be, how tense my arms were, how the wind whistled as the blade fell. Over and over and over.
At some point, master left the courtyard, leaving me alone with my thousand swings. But I kept going. Never stopping, no matter how tired I felt, no matter how much I wanted to fall over. I just swung the sword, over and over and over.
That was until master's voice reached my ears.
"That's enough."
I looked up to see him standing there, smiling. Rashid was at his side, holding something in his hands. My vision was blurry from exhaustion, but I could make out the shape - it was a cake. One with the numbers 15 on it.
I dropped the sword and fell back onto the grass, my chest heaving.
A shadow covered me as both master and Rashid stood above me. My vision slowly cleared, and I could see they were both smiling. In their hands was indeed a cake, decorated with blue frosting that looked like ocean waves.
"Happy birthday, Sinbad."